


Syrup and the Salt Shaker

by RemyJane



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemyJane/pseuds/RemyJane
Summary: People described Alex as a force of nature. If Alex was a force of nature, Nicky was the gravity that held planets in orbit around a sun.—————Alex and Nicky fall apart before they can get together





	Syrup and the Salt Shaker

**Author's Note:**

> Contains references to period typical homophobia and bullying. Contains hockey-typical violence. 
> 
> Italics indicate language spoken other than English (Russian, for the sake of this fic)
> 
> Some smut at the end

People described Alex as a force of nature. If Alex was a force of nature, Nicky was the gravity that held planets in orbit around a sun. Alex fell for him when he first saw him, both of them young, excited, and nervous. Nicky was beautiful, but not only on the outside, Alex learned. He acted quiet and dry, witty, but he was sweet and careful too. 

Nicky was self-composed, never frantic. Even on the ice he stayed calm. He held the puck on his blade for so long Alex would scream himself hoarse when they first started playing together. Now, he knew he could wait and trust Nicky, and the puck would land perfectly on his tape to be tapped in. 

“Best center, Nicklas Backstrom!” Alex announced to the locker room, grabbing Nicky’s hand and holding it in the air like he was a victorious wrestler. The was scattered applause and a few cheers- Nicky had three assists that night, two on Alex’s goals. 

Nicky’s cheeks were delicately flushed as he pulled his hand away, rolling his eyes at Alex. Alex smiled broadly at him, undeterred. Nicky could roll his eyes all he wanted; Alex would stand on top of the arena and tell the world all about his center, the best center. 

Nicky sidled up alongside Alex after the reporters left. The blond was fully dressed already, sleeves pulled down over his hands. “I’m hungry.” He said. 

“Don’t eat me.” Alex laughed, pulling on a t shirt. 

Nicky released a somewhat dramatic sigh. “You’d taste terrible.” He said flatly, as though he’d already thought about this and cannibalism bored him. 

“I taste best. Very well-seasoned.” Alex argued. 

“Vodka doesn’t count as- never mind.” Nicky shook his head, forcing himself to not pursue the conversation further. “Do you want to get dinner with me?” 

“Of course.” Alex said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Diner?” 

“Of course.” Nicky parroted, his lips quirking in a grin despite himself. 

There was a diner down the street from the arena, a hole in the wall with chipped tile floors and a wait staff that was long past impressed with them, even after they’d started to win games.

Nicky and Alex were there at least once a week. Alex would eat too many waffles and Nicky would diagram beautiful plays with sugar packets and creamers. 

“I want to be syrup this time.” Alex said, settling in the booth and shedding his jacket. 

“You are sticky.” Nicky agreed mildly, checking Alex’s reaction as he reached for the syrup. 

The Russian threw his head back with a hearty laugh and pushed the salt shaker forward. “Ok, ok. Here’s you.” Nicky shook his head, smiling with fond exasperation. 

Under the table, their feet tangled. Alex didn’t overlook the fact that no one else got to touch Nicky like he did, and Nicky didn’t touch anyone else like he did Alex. 

“Is our year, Nicky. Syrup and salt shaker going all the way.” He joked. 

Nicky smiled, apples of his cheeks rosy. “What about the Tabasco?” 

“Fuck Tabasco!” They played the penguins next; Alex couldn’t remember if the half-empty bottle of Tabasco was Crosby or Malkin, but it didn’t matter. 

After the diner, it was too late to go out and too early to go home. Nicky’s place was closer and they wound up there. It was a modest apartment, but comfortable. Alex slung his arm around Nicky as they sat on the couch and Nicky let him. 

They played Halo and drank beer, until Nicky’s eyes were heavy and bloodshot. 

“You can stay, you shouldn’t drive.” Nicky volunteered. “Guest room is made up.” Nicky was the only person their age that Alex knew of who always had his guest room made up. Theoretically there was a spare bed at Alex’s apartment but it was covered in hockey equipment and it was missing one of the pillows. 

“Ok, ok.” Alex agreed. He was more tired than he was drunk, but it was cold outside and Nicky’s place was warm. Not just thermally, but aesthetically as well; there were family photos and pillows and blankets. 

Nicky loaned him a pair of sweatpants, and it took Alex a moment to realize they fit so well because they were his. “You left them last time.” Nicky explained. “I washed them.” He added, as if Alex cared. 

“Thank you.” 

Nicky’s guest room was neat, with a few photos on the dresser and an extra blanket folded over a chair by the closet. Somehow Nicky was better at playing at being an adult than Alex was, even though he was older. 

They fit into each other’s routines seamlessly. Alex knew how to kick the soccer ball in two touch just so, so Nicky would have to settle it with his knee. Nicky leaned close enough on the bench that Alex could hear his quiet commentary. They wound up at the diner again and again. 

It could’ve continued like that (two-touch, hockey, syrup and the salt shaker) for an eternity and Alex would’ve never complained. It could’ve but it didn't, all because Nicky leaned close when he should’ve pulled away. 

Underneath the streetlights outside the diner, Nicky’s eyes were a green Alex had never seen before. He kissed him, without thinking. And Nicky, god, Nicky melted into his chest just a little, just enough. 

Just enough that Alex realized what he’d done, shoving Nicky away with two hands on his shoulders. Nicky stumbled backwards, landing on the sidewalk. His mouth gaped open, breath hanging in the bitter cold air. 

“I-I” Alex stammered. 

“I’m sorry.” Nicky said, fingers of one hand grazing his lips. Something in his eyes was broken.

“No, I-“ Alex took a deep breath. “We can’t. I can’t. It’s wrong.” Not right now. 

They were the faces of a struggling franchise, Alex was too young, and Nicky was too perfect. Alex was scared and Nicky-

“I understand.” Nicky’s face was a mask, but his voice wavered. “I have to go.” He wiped his eyes dry on his sleeve as he pushed himself to his feet and fled. 

Alex was numb as he walked into the diner, slumping down in a booth. He picked up the salt shaker, considering it. He nearly dropped it as he ran back outside, but Nicky was already gone.

Nicky stopped playing two-touch. He stopped sitting by Alex. He stopped smiling when he caught Alex’s gaze. He almost stopped talking altogether, but he didn’t stop passing to him. Even if Nicky didn’t trust Alex, he trusted his hockey. 

Alex wasn’t sure if that was enough, wasn’t sure if everything they’d had before could be rebuilt on the blade of a hockey stick, but he had to try. He missed his center. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Mike Green asked. Valid question, Alex thought. 

“He is ok, though?” He repeated. 

“His playing is fine, if that’s what you mean.” Mike crossed his arms. Alex was distantly glad Nicky had someone who was as loyal to him as he deserved, but he wished he didn’t have to combat that loyalty to get a status update. 

“No, no. Is he ok?” 

“He won’t say much.” Mike admitted. “He’s been dropping weight lately though.”

“Middle of season.” Alex shrugged. He didn’t want it to be his fault. 

“Maybe. Look, just leave him alone. You can’t do that and then expect everything to go back to normal.” Mike said, shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking over his shoulder. 

“He is not ok?” Alex asked. 

The stern line of Mike’s mouth morphed into a deep frown. “I didn’t say that.” 

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Alex hadn’t realized how many meals he and Nicky shared until he started replacing them with alcohol and Nicky didn’t bother replacing them at all. 

Sasha Semin finally dared to say something after a few days. _“What happened to Backy?”_ He asked, no joking, no humor, at the bar after a game. 

_“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”_ He didn’t look at Sasha, staring at the wood bar under his hands. 

_“I’m asking you. You look sad without him.”_ Sasha said gently.

 _“I’m fine.”_ Alex grumbled. 

_“Uh huh. Sure.”_ Sasha said disbelievingly. _“What happened?”_

Alex glanced around; no one seemed to be listening to their conversation. _“I kissed him.”_

If Sasha was surprised, he didn’t show it. _“Did he not want you to?”_ He asked, brow furrowing. 

Alex remembered how it had felt when Nicky leaned into the kiss, the subtle weight of his body and the warmth that had bled through Alex’s sweatshirt. _“No, he...I think he did.”_

Sasha sighed. _“Then what’s the problem?”_

 _“It’ll mess up everything with the team.”_ He said, shrugging. 

_“Is everything messed up now?”_ Sasha asked, after thinking a moment. 

_“What?”_

_“I said, is everything messed up now?”_ He repeated. _“You’re trying to drink yourself to death and he’s basically mute, but you’re still playing well together. What else is gonna get messed up?”_

Alex took a long drink. _“My family-“_

 _“No.”_ Sasha interrupted. _“No. I’ve met your mom, she’s terrifying but she loves you. She wants you to be happy. You're not in Russia, Alex.”_

_“Maybe Olympics, maybe national team…”_

_“Don’t be stupid. I know how you feel about Nicky.”_ Sasha said, his voice low and quiet. _“And you’re only gonna get a few chances like this, you can’t waste them.”_

Alex looked up, seeing Sasha as though for the first time. His eyes were serious and deep, harboring secrets that Alex had never suspected. There was a certainty there, a thin sheet over old hurts, that Alex had never noticed before. Or maybe Sasha had never let him see it until now. 

_“Won’t work.”_ He shrugged. _“I thought maybe when we were older and more established…”_ he picked at his fingernails, cheeks heating up. _“I’ve never kissed a, uh, a guy before.”_ He admitted quietly, shifting on the barstool uncomfortably. 

Sasha’s face softened. _“You should tell Backy all this. He’s just as miserable as you.”_

Alex glanced over his shoulder. Nicky was sitting with Mike, a half-finished drink in his hand. He was staring into space, periodically remembering to smile as the people around him talked. He froze when he caught Alex watching him. Alex turned back quickly. 

Now that Alex was watching, instead of avoiding Nicky, he started to see why everyone was getting worried. Nicky had always been reserved, but now he was too quiet. Even the coaching staff seemed to notice something was wrong, though Nicky’s hockey didn’t suffer. 

Alex felt guilt like a weight on his chest; he did that to Nicky. He took the shine from his eyes and the charm from his smiles. Where do you start, when you hurt someone like that? How could he possibly reconstruct the chemistry they had? 

Furthermore, as much as Alex wanted to kiss him again, he didn’t think he should. That wasn’t- that wasn’t something Russian Men did. Intellectually, he knew that wasn’t true, but every ingrained instinct in him was screaming that it was wrong, so wrong. Even if he knew what to say to start to build something between them again, it wasn’t Nicky’s job to fix how Alex thought. And Nicky didn’t deserve someone who couldn’t make peace with his demons. 

Nicky played brilliant, shimmering hockey. He set his plays, he picked his moments, he made his opponents look like fools. And when he stepped off the ice, everything fell away. His eyes were hollow and he was a passive participant in the world. 

Mike Green sat down heavily in the seat beside Alex on the plane ride home. 

“It really sucks what you did to Nick.” Mike frowned at him. “Are you ever gonna talk to him?”

“Does he want to talk to me?” Alex asked, hopeful. 

Mike snorted. “He doesn’t even want to talk to me.” 

“Oh.”

“But, I don’t think you can make it worse. He’s second-guessing years of stuff.” Mike looked around, making sure they weren’t going to be overheard. “I’m worried about him, ok? You gotta do something.” He implored. 

“I talk to him when we go home.” 

The rest of the road trip was a special kind of torture. Half the team was sick, a beastly upper respiratory thing sweeping through them as they systematically battled the west coast teams for points. Alex had evaded it so far, but he knew it was only a matter of time. 

He didn’t know Nicky was sick until the last game, when the blond was coughing so hard on the bench Alex wasn’t sure how he would play. Somehow, though, Nicky managed. He set up pass after pass, trying to give anyone a goal. They were tied 1-1 with the third period dwindling down and Alex knew they were too fatigued, too worn down, to do well in overtime. 

“You get it to me, ok.” He told Nicky. Nicky looked up at him, eyes glazed with fever. 

“Ok.”

Just like that, Alex knew he could win this and put them out of their misery. His team was sick, Nicky was sick, and a goal was the last thing they needed before they could go home. He always performed just a little bit better with pressure, with something riding on him that he had to take care of. 

Nicky passed, Alex scored, and the team breathed a collective sigh of relief as the clock wound down in the third. 

Afterwards, Alex felt like he had to say something. He waited until the plane was in the air before approached Nicky, raising his eyebrows at Mike until he moved. 

“Drink.” Alex said, pressing a bottle of Gatorade into Nicky’s hand. “Planes too dry.”

“Thanks.” Nicky said, almost voiceless. 

“You best Center, you know?” 

Nicky looked up at him, shadows of a smile on his face. “I think I’ve heard that before.” He said, turning to cough into his elbow. 

Alex grinned at him. Ordinarily, he’d make a joke here, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Alex had never been at a loss for words, especially not with Nicky. Instead, he turned somber. “I’m sorry, Nicky.” 

Nicky shrugged. “I understand.” He couldn’t even meet Alex’s eye, he realized. 

“I hurt you.” 

“Yeah.” Nicky looked away, squeezing his eyes shut. Alex felt queasy; he couldn’t drag Nicky through all this again when he was as sick as he was. 

“I don’t know how, but I’m gonna try to make better. To be better. I promise.” Alex said. “Get rest, Nicky.” He got up, cheeks burning as he walked to the back of the plane. 

Fuck. 

When Alex got home, he called his mom and confessed everything to her, one long sentence that seemed to start when Nicky got drafted and ended with the last plane ride. He felt lighter, the weight of his sins gone. His mother was quiet for a long moment, as fear grew in Alex’s heart about what she would say. Finally, she spoke. _“Oh, Sasha.”_ She began fondly. _“You make everything so complicated.”_

_“I’m sorry, mama, I-“_

_“No, no, no. You love him. I’ve known that for years. Every phone call is ‘Nicky this’ and ‘Nicky that’. You love him and he obviously loves you.”_ She explained. 

_“Obviously?”_

_“You can’t be so heartbroken if you’re not in love.”_ She said. 

Alex laid on the couch long after they said their goodbyes, staring at the dark ceiling of his apartment. If Nicky was in love with him… He couldn’t even imagine that. 

When he closed his eyes, all he could feel was Nicky’s lips parting against his. All he could see was the broken look in his eyes when Alex shoved him away. Wrong, Alex had said. The word rung in his head like a bell. 

But if Nicky loved him…How could he make it right again? He rolled onto his side, body aching. Nicky was something precious; he couldn’t afford to mess this up again. 

In the morning, Alex woke to a sun streaming through his living room window, a splitting headache, and a renewed respect for his teammates who played through this. He picked up his phone, saw that the coaching staff had cancelled the optional practice, and fell back to sleep. 

When he awoke again, he forced himself to get up and make food, reheating soup in the microwave. He sat down at the table and stared at it, not wanting to eat despite his hunger. His throat hurt and his head hurt and he wanted to curl up in a ball until he was well again. 

Nicky had played through this, he reminded himself, surely he could manage a bowl of soup. That mantra carried him through a shower and finding actual pajamas to lounge in, until he crashed on the couch again. 

Before he could think to stop himself, he texted Nicky. 

‘How you play like this? Even eyes hurt.’ 

He put his phone down and fell into an uneasy sleep. When he woke up, his heart quickened as he realized Nicky had responded.

‘A lot of cold medicine.’ And then, a minute later. ‘Feel better.’

‘Thanks. You too.’ 

Alex felt warm despite the fever, a smile tugging on his lips. Maybe if he could get his shit together, he could fix this. Maybe Nicky really did love him. 

Their next practice was pitiful, the team in various states of recovery. Coughing echoed in the rink and ultimately practice was cut short. 

Alex was feeling better, sore all over and exhausted, but improving. It emboldened him, and he sat down next to Nicky, ignoring Sasha’s stares. 

“Lunch?” He offered. 

Nicky looked at him, studied him like he could see through him and read his intentions. “Ok.” He finally agreed. His voice was still husky, a little deeper than Alex was use too. 

“Diner?” He asked, offering it up as a familiar common ground. 

Nicky shook his head. “Anywhere else.” 

They ended up at a pizza place close enough to Nicky’s apartment that they’d parked there. Alex didn’t mind giving him the Home ice advantage; he had to start somewhere. 

Nicky was careful to keep space between them as they walked down the block, hands tucked into his coat pockets and eyes on the ground. Alex could only imagine what must be going through his head. 

“I’m sorry.” He said again, after their order had been placed. 

“I know.” Nicky said. He was poised, calm, and Alex didn’t know what that meant. 

“You feeling better?” 

Nicky nodded. “Much. You?”

“Getting there. Still sore. And throat, ugh.” He took a drink of water to stifle the tickle in his throat. 

After that, the silence lingered over their table like a heavy cloud. Nicky didn’t fidget, didn’t look nervous, didn’t make eye contact. There were no sugar packets and creamers with which to plan their next plays. 

“Nicky…” Alex’s mouth dried up when Nicky looked up at him, his green eyes vulnerable. “Shouldn’t have done all that.” 

“Ok.” Nicky whispered. 

“I mean, not like that.” Alex continued, regretting that his English wasn’t better. Nicky’s cheeks were red with shame and his eyes were fixed on his hands. “Shouldn’t push you away.” He added. 

Nicky swallowed thickly and slowly looked up at him again. “What?”

“It was a mistake.” 

Nicky’s eyes shuttered. “You looked disgusted. You said it...you said it was wrong.” He accused quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” Alex said. This wasn’t going how he’d planned, how he’d hoped. He wasn’t naive enough to think everything would go back to normal, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t get worse. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Only kiss girls, before.” 

Before Nicky and his golden hair and green eyes had worked his way through Alex’s veins to his heart. 

“I was your first?” Nicky asked, slightly less angry, slightly more sad. 

“Yeah. Not how I planned things.” He said ruefully. 

Nicky nodded. “I’ve never...only girls.” He swallowed. “Only kissing.” He was flushed from his ears down to the collar of his shirt. 

Alex nodded, staring at him. “In Russia...well, you know.” 

Nicky nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Think I like you since I meet you.” Alex told him. 

Nicky’s guard dropped slightly, his mouth opening in shock. Alex wanted to kiss him again but he wouldn’t. “Alex…” 

“I’m sorry. I know you mad at me. Should be mad at me.” 

Nicky laughed. It was ugly and self-deprecating, and harsh. “I wish I was mad at you.” 

“What?”

“I’ve been trying so hard, you know, to figure out what I did wrong.” Nicky looked fragile. His eyes were wet and Alex feared they’d well over. 

Their pizza being brought to the table spared them having to make further conversation, but Nicky didn’t eat much, stopping after a little less than two slices.

“Nicky, eat.” Alex said, mouth full of cheese. 

Nicky pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Full.” 

“Dropping too much weight. Greenie thinks so too.” Alex said. Nicky shrugged his shoulders. 

“I’ve been sick.”

“Before-“ Alex started. 

“I have to go.” Nicky interrupted. He dropped a few bills on the table to cover his share before sliding out of the booth. 

“Nicky.” But the blond kept his head down and hurried out the door. 

It was the most they’d spoken since the ill-fated kiss, Alex reminded himself. It wasn’t going to get better over night. 

Alex still had trouble sleeping, because his cough was worse when he laid down. He scavenged pillows from around the apartment and built himself a veritable throne of them. But still, he couldn’t sleep. 

He’d shoved Nicky, made Nicky feel ashamed, like he was somehow wrong. He’d hurt him, wounded him deeply with just a few words. All because he selfishly had to know what it would be like to kiss him. All because Nicky had liked the kiss, and that scared Alex. 

Alex tossed and turned. Maybe he could fix this. Maybe they could have lunch again. Alex wondered if Nicky would ever go back to the diner. To Alex, every sugar packet, every salt shaker, represented a plan Nicky had made piece by piece to bring the Cup to Washington. He might never go to another diner again.

Wins were hard, but loses were harder. They clawed and fought and scrambled for every point. The second half of the season was always difficult, Alex reminded himself. It seemed worse without Nicky at his side, sardonic and quick. 

It use to be that Nicky sat beside Alex during video review, taking quiet shots at Alex’s backhand. Alex was a few rows behind him now, staring at errant curls that looked in desperate need of a comb. Mike was next to him, but Nicky wasn’t talking. 

Mike shifted to rest his arm over the back of Nicky’s chair. The blond leaned infinitesimally closer, just enough to suck the air out of Alex’s lungs. 

Mike was straight, Alex reminded himself. Mike has a serious, long term girlfriend. Still, the only name for the thing that twisted his stomach was jealousy.

Nicky was struck in the face by a high stick during the next game against Flyers. Alex considered starting a fight, but Nicky was still kneeling on the ice, shoulders hunched in pain. He skated to his side. 

“Nicky? Ok?”

“Help me up.” Nicky said, calm despite the blood dripping from his face. He covered it with his glove, trying to keep the ice clean. 

Alex assisted him towards the bench. Just before they reached it, Nicky looked up. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He said. 

“Nothing stupid.” Alex promised. Going after the person who hurt his center wasn’t stupid- Alex needed his center. 

Alex was in the penalty box when Nicky returned with stitches, but even the distance between them didn’t diminish the disappointed frown Nicky leveled at him. Alex grinned and waved, smiling wider when Nicky rolled his eyes. 

“I said not to do anything stupid.” Nicky said, after the game. 

There was bruising around the stitches, the margin of his jaw puffy and darkening to a deep purple. Alex pressed his lips together, studying it. 

“Wasn’t stupid.” He insisted. 

“You wasted a four-minute minor.” Nicky countered. “You could’ve scored.” 

“We won.” Alex said defensively.

“Yeah, despite you.” Nicky snapped. “It wasn’t worth that.”

“He hurt you.” Alex shrugged. 

Nicky softened a bit. He was never eager to fight, not like Alex. “So, what? Only you can hurt me?” He asked, voice gentle and devoid of malice. 

He walked away before Alex could even breathe, let alone reply. 

Before the kiss, Alex had taken for granted how easily Nicky and he moved through each other’s spaces. They’d sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench or the bus, they’d bump elbows when they walked side by side. Nicky would hip check him on the ice to make sure he was paying attention. 

Now, it was Mike who was sitting beside Nicky, heads bent together as they talked quietly. Mike, who could easily throw an arm around Nicky’s shoulders. And Nicky didn’t tense up or pull away. Alex knew logically he had nothing to be jealous of. But he was still jealous. 

Alex moved around a lot on the plane now. He use to sit by Nicky, trying to read over his shoulder, and occasionally play poker. Nicky would clean everyone out of their snacks and begrudgingly share them with Alex. Now, Alex drifted. 

Nicky didn’t play poker anymore and it showed in the quality of snacks people were willing to bring. Nicky sat by himself, or Mike would sit beside him. Sometimes they’d watch a movie. Sometimes, Nicky would rest his head against Mike’s shoulder on late flights home. Alex wanted that more than anything. 

Alex wasn’t moping when Sasha sat down beside him; captains didn’t mope, it was unbecoming. 

_“You talk to him?”_ He asked quietly. Alex nodded. _“And?”_ Sasha prompted. 

_“I don’t know. How do you make someone trust you again?”_ He shrugged. 

_“You don’t.”_ Sasha said. _“You have to earn it.”_

Earn it. The words echoed in Alex’s head. How? How had he done it the first time? Their friendship, how he felt about Nicky, it was like breathing. How to you make it from scratch again? 

When they arrived at the hotel, Alex caught up with Nicky on the way to the elevators. “Go for a walk with me?” He asked, hopeful. 

Nicky looked at him consideringly, weighing his options or maybe planning an escape. “Ok.” He decided. Alex broke into a relaxed smile. 

Nicky met him in the lobby, coat collar turned up and a beanie pulled over his curls. He shoved his hands in his pockets. 

For a while they walked in silence, reaching a small park. It was empty, save for a few people jogging over their lunch break. An empty playground stood at one end and a gazebo at the other. In between was a pond, partially frozen, and stands of trees.

Finally, Alex spoke. “When I was young, I tell my brother I...I like boys. He yell at me, tell me never to say again. To anyone.” He admitted.

Nicky looked up at him, his cheeks stained pink from the cold wind. “Yeah. I...I didn’t tell anyone.” He shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. “There was a boy a few years older and people found out...the bullying was so bad he quit his team.”

“I thought Sweden more...friendly.” Alex said. 

Nicky looked away. “Yeah, in the big cities...Valbo was very small. Especially then. It was less...kids are mean, you know?”

Alex faltered. It was too easy to conjure up an imagine of young Nicky, all arms and legs, being teased or bullied. “They mean to you?”

Nicky chucked, dark and humorless. “Sometimes.” He admitted, guarded. He looked up at Alex. “All the other guys on my team were really into girls and I wasn’t. They noticed.” 

His ears were red and Alex didn’t think it was from the cold. “Silly. They not know you the best center.” A brighter blush crept across Nicky’s cheeks as he swallowed back a smile, looking down at his boots, 

“Guess not.” They walked a few feet further before Nicky spoke again. “Did you ever...did you ever tell anyone else?” 

“You.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Alex laughed. “Sasha knows, too. He guess I like you.” Nicky nodded thoughtfully. “Greenie knows?” Alex asked.

“Uh huh. My rookie year, he kept trying to take me to a strip club.” Nicky shook his head in clear disapproval. Alex chuckled. Nicky huffed a laugh, smiling for a fleeting moment as he met Alex’s gaze before it slipped off his face.

“I miss you.” Alex blurted out as the silence lingered. 

Nicky pressed his lips together, nodding. “Yeah. Me too.” He agreed quietly. 

It was 30° outside, but Alex was suddenly warm again. Alex replayed the conversation in his head again and again, and he didn’t think he’d imagined the way Nicky’s eyes had looked when they met his. 

When they arrived back home, Nicky waited to get his bags beside Alex. “I want pizza.” He said, looking straight ahead. He glanced at Alex, checking that he’d heard, before dropping his gaze down to his shoes. 

“Ok.” Alex agreed quickly. 

They met at the pizza place near Nicky’s apartment and sat together in a booth towards the back. It was mostly empty, only a few other people occupying the tables. 

Alex’s foot bumped Nicky’s under the table and Nicky startled, pulling away. Nicky picked at his nails until he seemed to realize he was fidgeting, pressing his hands flat to the table. 

“So…” Alex started, expression souring when he realized he wasn’t sure where to go with that. Nicky laughed, his eyes crinkling. Alex smiled back, relieved; he hadn’t heard Nicky truly laugh in too long. 

“Yeah.” 

“Not use to not know what to say.” Alex admitted. 

Nicky nodded, still smiling faintly. “I know.” He looked warm and fond, almost nostalgic. Nicky drew a deep breath, steeling himself. “When I was 14, someone left a note in my locker.” He began. “It was from a guy on my team.”

“You like him?”

“I did.” Nicky fidgeted with his napkin. “It said he liked me too, wanted to meet me behind the school.” 

“He not there?” Alex asked, half-hopeful. Nicky grimaced. “He was. And a few other guys.” His face flushed red thinking about it, even years later. 

“They hurt you?” 

“Not really. They pushed me around, laughed at me. Called me names, that sort of thing.” The napkin was crumpled in his hands. 

“You give me their names, I kick their asses.” Alex vowed, only half-joking. 

Nicky hummed, still not looking up. “When you...that’s all I could think of. That I...that I fell for the same joke again.” He admitted, gutting Alex completely. 

“Nicky…” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Nicky looked up. “I know you didn’t mean, I just…” he trailed off. 

“Scared me, how much I like you.” Alex admitted. That got Nicky to look up. “Never think I could ever...and then you kissed back.” Nicky’s green eyes were mesmerizing and Alex didn’t want to look away. 

“What did you think would happen?” Nicky asked, gently curious. 

“Didn’t think.” Alex admitted. 

Nicky snorted. “Shocking.” He said, smirking. For half a second, it was normal. “Do still want to? Kiss me, I mean?” The tips of ears were burning red, peeking out from under his hair. 

“Yes. You want to kiss me?” Alex’s heart raced in his chest. Nicky bit his lip and nodded, breaking eye contact. “Ok.” He smiled.

They ate together quietly, comfortable silence replacing the weeks of stilted pauses and awkwardness. Alex walked Nicky back to his apartment but the blond stopped at the front door to his building. “You’re not coming up.” He said. 

“No?” Alex frowned, confused. 

Nicky nodded. “We’re not...we’re not there yet.” He decided slowly, looking anywhere but Alex’s face. “Or, at least...I’m not.” He admitted. 

“Ok.” Alex agreed easily. He squeezed Nicky’s arm right above the elbow, smiling reassuringly at him. “Bye, Nicky.” 

“Bye, Alex.” Nicky said, smiling warmly at him. Alex’s feet didn’t touch the ground all the way back to his car, or at least that’s how it felt. 

After their next game, they all went out to the bar. Sasha passed Alex a shot. _“You look happier.”_ He said, smiling. _“Is everything getting better?”_

Alex threw back the shot and nodded. 

_“Good. You being all morose was getting old.”_ Sasha teased. _“Be good to Nicky.”_

After the bar many of the guys went to Mike’s apartment, though the older guys begged off to go see their wives. 

Nicky was tucked into the corner of the couch, watching the video game on screen and periodically kicking the control out of Mike’s hand. Alex sat down next to the Swede, grinning at him. 

“You play, Nicky?” He gestured towards the TV.

“No, thanks.” He shook his head. “It looks stupid.” Alex laughed; Nicky was drunk. 

“Fuck you!” Mike growled when Nicky bumped the controller with his foot. “You asshole.” Nicky giggled helplessly, covering his face. 

Alex took the controller after Mike lost, preemptively elbowing Nicky to deter him. Nicky laughed, unrestrained. “It’s not worth...not worth trying to mess you up.” He hiccuped. 

Alex chuckled and Mike sat on the arm of the couch, grinning at Nicky as he draped an arm around him protectively. Nicky leaned against his side, closing his eyes. Mike gave Alex a pointed look, which he avoided by throwing himself into the game again. 

Once he had to hand the controller off to someone else, Nicky nudged him with his foot. “Drive me home?” He asked.

“Sure.” Alex agreed. 

“Just stay here.” Mike offered. “I have a spare bed.” 

“Wanna go home.” Nicky protested mildly, wakefulness fading quickly. 

“Is fine. I’m good to drive.” Alex said. Mike frowned at him over Nicky’s head, his expression sour. As Alex took his empties to the kitchen, Mike followed after him. 

“Be careful with him, ok?” Mike said, glancing over his shoulder. “I know he’s drunk but-“

“Just drive home. Promise.”

Mike relaxed, nodding. “Ok. I know you wouldn’t do anything, just...he’s finally getting back to normal.” He admitted. 

Alex smiled. “You are good friend, Greenie.” He said. 

Mike rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I try. He’s...he really likes you. Don’t fuck it up this time.” He warned. 

“I won’t.” Alex swore. 

Nicky fell asleep on the drive home. Alex stared at him for a long moment, enthralled, before snapping out of it. He shook his arm gently and Nicky blinked blearily at him. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Alex teased. 

Nicky flipped him off before fumbling with his seatbelt. 

“Thanks.” He said, before closing the door and hurrying in out of the cold. 

Alex watched until the door closed behind him and then sat a little longer, the image of Nicky asleep against the window lingering like a ghost in his brain. Maybe it was nothing; maybe it was trust. 

Nicky was still keeping him at arm’s length compared to before. At practice, Nicky wrestled with Mike on the ice, his laugh echoing in the rink. Others seemed to notice too, judging by the approving smiles. It used to be Alex, but he was just happy to hear it again.

Slowly, tentatively, things started to approach normal again. Or, at least, a new normal where past hurts had started to heal. Nicky would sit close to him on the bench again, snarky commentary that made Alex bite his mouth guard to keep from laughing aloud. There was still space between them, a final distance Alex didn’t know how to close. 

“Ask me on a date.” Nicky said, standing at Alex’s elbow after a game. His hair was dripping on his shoulders, his face was flushed, and his upper lip was swollen from a misplaced elbow; to Alex, he looked beautiful. 

“Go on a date with me.” Alex said. His stomach fluttered under the weight of Nicky’s gaze. 

“Ok. Pick me up at 7.” Nicky’s expression was calm, but his hands were clenched around his jacket sleeves, more nervous than he let on. 

“Ok. 7.” Alex repeated. Nicky nodded, starting to walk away. Alex smiled to himself and finished getting dressed before he realized something. “Nicky!” He jogged after him. “Nicky, what day?!” 

Tomorrow. Alex couldn’t sleep. Did he bring flowers? No, probably not flowers. Nicky had complained, once, that flowers were stupid. ‘You just have to watch them die.’ He’d said, shaking his head. Chocolates? Nicky pretended otherwise, but he had just as bad a sweet tooth as Alex. 

Alex rolled onto his side. There had to be something perfect for Nicky, something perfect for them. He was still mulling it over when he finally fell asleep. 

Alex woke in the morning to realize he should probably decide where they were going to eat. It had to be a step nicer than the pizza place, but not so nice that it would draw attention. Plus, Nicky always looked uncomfortable in a tie and Alex was tired of seeing Nicky look uncomfortable around him. 

He texted Sasha for ideas. He received a string of laughing emojis and then, a few minutes later, the name of a restaurant Alex had never been to. 

_‘Italian place, quiet, wear a nice shirt. Family owned.’_ Sasha explained. 

_‘Family like the mafia???’_ Alex sent back. 

_‘Don’t ask so many questions. I made reservations for you. 7:30.’_ And then, a second text. _‘Nice shirts have buttons.’_

Alex rolled his eyes. _‘Thank you.’_ He sent back. 

Alex was thrumming with nervous energy throughout practice. Sasha looked amused, smirking at him knowingly. 

_“You have condoms, right?”_ Sasha asked, sneaking up behind him between drills. Alex smacked his arm, hard. 

“Shh!” 

_“He doesn’t know Russian.”_ Sasha countered. _“Don’t be so paranoid.”_

_“Still.”_ Alex said, in defeated protest. 

_“Just joking. Don’t put out on the first date.”_

_“It’s not-!”_

_“I know, I know. I tease. But I’m older and wiser, so you should listen to me more.”_ Sasha smirked. 

_“You’re only one year older.”_ Alex pointed out. 

_“But so much wiser.”_ Sasha said confidently. _“Don’t be so nervous. He likes you a lot. I don’t know why; it’s not for your looks.”_ He teased gently, his expression soft and fond. 

Alex stuck his tongue out through the gap in his teeth. Sasha shook his head, pushing Alex forward as the line moved. 

After practice, Alex spent a while staring at his closet, wondering where he’d acquired so many oversized t-shirts. Finally, he decided on a maroon button down and a pair of dark blue jeans without any holes. 

He arrived at Nicky’s at exactly 6:58, knocking on the door. After a moment, Nicky opened it. 

His hair was combed down and presentable, which Alex found strangely cute. He was wearing a dark blue button down, with a tie in his hand. Alex forgot for a second what his plan was. 

Nicky cocked his head, eyes twinkling. “Hi.” He said. 

“Hi.” Alex smiled, cheeks flushing pink. “I know you don’t like flowers, so.” He produced a small potted cactus from behind his back, a small red flower blooming on top. “Won’t die. Plant lady said very hard to kill.” 

Nicky laughed, accepting it and stepping aside. “Thank you.” He smiled. “Do I need a tie?” 

“No, no tie.” 

“Thank god.” Nicky said, tossing the tie over the back of a kitchen chair before settling the cactus in the window over the sink. It looked like it had always been there, between a few mugs and a tin of recipes that Alex knew were copied down in Nicky’s neatest handwriting from his grandmothers’. 

“Ready?” Nicky asked. 

Alex swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.” 

The restaurant was an old brick building, warm on the inside with pictures on the walls. If the host recognized Alex and Nicky, they didn’t let it show. They were led to a booth towards the back of the restaurant and left with menus. 

Nicky shed his coat and and scarf before settling in his seat. “Have you been here before?” He asked. 

Alex shook his head. “Asked Sasha.” He admitted. 

Nicky nodded, thoughtfully considering the menu with the same focus he applied to everything. Dinner was served family style, Alex read. 

“What do you want?” He asked. 

“Lasagna.” Nicky said, folding his menu. 

“Sounds good.” Alex agreed. 

The waitress returned soon after, taking their order and leaving them with warm bread and a bottle of wine “compliments of the house.” She smiles smoothly. 

Nicky raised his eyebrows at Alex before pouring them each a glass. He took a sip. “It’s good.”

“Good.” 

I don’t know anything about wine.” He admitted with a candid grin. 

Alex laughed. “Me either.” 

Conversation flowed easily over the meal, chatting like there had never been a divide between them. 

Alex drove Nicky home, parking with the intent of walking him to the door. His dried his hands on his thighs. There was no one around when he asked, “can I kiss you?” 

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded, looking at Alex through his lashes. 

Alex leaned closer, pressing a delicate kiss to Nicky’s lips. Nicky kissed back, his hands coming to rest on Alex’s hips. They parted for a beat, before Nicky kissed him again. His lips parted easily, soft and inviting. 

Alex was breathless, afterwards. Nicky smiled at him, happy and golden, nothing between them. 

“Do you want to come up?” He asked, quietly. 

“You sure?” Alex asked. 

“Very.” Nicky assured him. 

Nicky acted calmer than Alex felt, though Nicky had an impenetrable poker face. His hands were steady as he unlocked his door and stepped inside. He flicked on the lights and toed off his shoes neatly by the door. 

“Do you want a drink? I think you still have some vodka here.” He asked, moving to the kitchen. 

“Sure.” Alex followed after him, watching as Nicky produced liquor and glasses, lining them up on the kitchen island. 

Nicky watched Alex intently over the rim of his glass as he took a drink. “You look nice.” 

“You too.” Alex said. “Finally brushed hair.” He teased, unable to resist. 

Nicky smiled, elusive dimples in his cheeks. “Special occasion.” He said, tracing a circle on the counter. His eyes flicked from his glass to Alex and then back down. “Movie?”

“Sure.”

They settled on the couch and Nicky leaned against Alex’s side, tucked in under his arm. Alex wasn’t sure what they were watching; all he could focus on was the press of Nicky against him and his hand resting on Alex’s thigh, warm through his jeans. 

Nicky set his empty glass on the coffee table, looking up at Alex. Alex leaned in to kiss him, fumbling to set his glass to the side. The kiss was nothing like the polite kiss at the door; it was desperate and heated and wanting. Alex nipped at Nicky’s lower lip and the blond moaned lightly before surging forward. 

Alex lost track of even the concept of time, movie playing on in the background unheard. One hand tangled in Nicky’s hair, mussing it. He bit kisses into the side of his neck, relishing the subtle gasp as his teeth first made contact. 

Nicky shifted and Alex leaned back, pulling Nicky on top of him. Finally, Nicky pulled back. Alex drank in the sight of him, his cheeks stained red and his hair messy. His pupils were blown wide, lips slightly parted. “We shouldn’t…”

“Right.” Alex said, grinning helplessly. 

Nicky smiled too, laughing under his breath. “I feel like a teenager.” He admitted, straightening up. 

“Like you so old.” Alex scoffed fondly. 

Nicky rolled his eyes. “You act like a teenager.” 

“Young at heart.” Alex boasted, grinning when Nicky laughed. 

A few days later, Nicky appeared at Alex’s stall after practice while he was finishing changing. “I’m hungry.” 

“Ok.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “Diner?” He asked quietly, his expression carefully guarded. 

“Of course.” Alex agreed. 

It felt simultaneously foreign and comforting to sit in their usual booth. Nicky glanced at the sugar packets and creamers at the edge of the table. Alex pushed the syrup bottle towards him. 

“Me.” He explained, grinning broadly. Nicky laughed, tangling their feet together underneath the table. 

“Of course.” 

“You.” He added, pushing the salt shaker over as well. Nicky’s eyes gleamed and he tilted his head as he studied Alex. “Salt shaker best center.” He explained.

After they ate, they drove to Nicky’s apartment, a charged silence between them. Still, Alex wasn't expecting Nicky to round on him as the door closed, backing him up against it and kissing him. 

Not that he was arguing. 

Nicky’s kisses were heated and hungry, his hands sliding under his shirt and up his sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Alex pulled him close, panting against his mouth. He could feel the length of Nicky’s cock against his thigh, the blond shuddering as Alex’s hips jerked forward. 

“You sure?” He asked.

“I keep thinking about it.” Nicky admitted, voice thick with desire. 

“Me too.” He rucked up Nicky’s shirt, the feel of smooth skin stretching out under his hand. 

“Bedroom.”

“God, yes.” Alex said. 

Nicky waited until they were near the bed before he pounced on him, pushing him backwards before clambering on top of him. 

“What do you want?” Alex asked, trying to muster all of his self-control. He’d never felt like this before, never had so much fire boiling in his blood, so much want he felt like he was glowing. 

“I don’t know.” Nicky admitted, desperate. “Anything, god, Alex, just please…” his body arching under Alex’s touch. 

Alex shucked Nicky’s shirt up, pulling it over his head. Nicky looked beautiful, curls falling in his face. Alex kissed down his chest, hands settling on his hips. 

Nicky fumbled with Alex’s fly, stilling when Alex’s unbuttoned it for him. Nicky at him, suddenly seeming to realize his inexperience. 

Alex took advantage, flipping him onto his back. Nicky was solid, heavy, and Alex liked the weight of him. “You ok?” He asked. 

Nicky, dazed, blinked up at him from the pillow. “Yeah.” He breathed. 

“Good.” Alex kissed him again, intent on devouring him. He tangled his hands in Nicky’s hair, pulling back to reveal the line of his neck. Nicky gasped as Alex sucked a hickey into his neck, bucking his hips up against Alex’s. 

Nicky raised his hips and allowed Alex to shimmy his pants and briefs down his thighs, his cock red and leaking from the tip. Nicky tugged fruitlessly at Alex’s jeans until the Russian took the hint and kicked them off, almost toppling off the bed. He ripped his shirt off too, smiling as Nicky drank in the sight. 

Alex wrapped a hand around Nicky’s length, kissing him to swallow down his moans. Nicky fumbled to grab Alex, his grip perfectly tight. 

Alex regretted that he wasn’t going to last longer, forcing his eyes open when Nicky broke away for air. The Swede was red down to the middle of his chest, sweat glistening over his fair skin. Nicky’s other hand gripped Alex’s tight. 

“Al-ex.” He panted. “Oh my god.” 

His hand squeezed even tighter, his eyes screwing shut. He came all at once, hiding his face in the crook of Alex’s shoulder at his most intimate moment. Alex came two strokes later, wrapping his arms around Nicky as cum cooled between them. 

They lay together in silence, breathing slowly returning to normal. Finally, Nicky pulled his face back, blinking up at Alex dumbly, green eyes hazy and sated. “You ok?” He asked. 

Alex kissed him tenderly. “I’m ok.” He promised. “Better than ok.” 

Nicky nodded, closing his eyes again. 

Alex propped himself up on one elbow, eyes following the contours of Nicky’s limbs. “Syrup and salt shaker, good at more than hockey.” He teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Those are the worst pet names.” Nicky deadpanned. 

“Would sound better in Russian.” Alex said agreeably. 

Nicky rolled his eyes. “I doubt that.” He said, pulling Alex back down to kiss him. “I doubt that very much.”


End file.
